Rangers And Elves
by DraftingWhite
Summary: Exactly what the title says. Civil war threatens to overtake the elven world and one side begs for help from the Araluens... they're human though, what can they do to help...? oh and guys? i love reviews, they really motivate me to write faster.
1. Chapter 1

Mossy, loamy, fresh, green. Leaves shuffled and dirt crunched on the path in the middle of the forest. The air filled her lungs as she crept along the underbrush beside the path. She could hear the man walking, but faintly, as if he had been trained to move silently.

Coming to an old oak tree to the side of the trail, she quickly scanned the branches with her sharp eyes. Yes, there were some overhanging the path. She launched herself up the side of the tree, gripping and pushing off with her claws until she came to the lowest branch over the path, about 5 or 6 meters up. Before she moved to the middle though- she knew her black and white fur would stick out like a sore thumb if she did- she lay on the branch close to the trunk, tail flicking and watched the trail.

A little while later, a man in a green and gray cloak came around the bend. That was when she stalked out to the middle of the branch and sat down, striped tail dangling below her. Had he looked up, the man would have seen the great striped cat before she landed lightly 10 meters in front of him, taking up most of the path. He stopped in his tracks, taking in the brawny, powerful build, massive jaws, and huge paws of the creature before him and unslung the longbow from his back.

Then the tiger spoke, keeping her stormy blue eyes fixed on his face beneath the hood, "I wouldn't do that if I were you." Her voice was light and soft, but it carried. It startled him so much that on reflex, he had nocked and drawn and arrow before he was aware of what he was doing. "Alright," she said, "If you really want to do it this way, I'll play along."

She saw the slight tension in his hand and dashed quickly to the right as he released. She figured she could then just pounce him, but when she looked up, he was already nocking a second arrow. She had underestimated his speed. He drew and fired and she dodged again.

This time, she used the built up energy from her landing to propel herself forward at a diagonal. She did the same thing, dodging arrows until she was in range of him, "Ignorant human," she said, leaping at him in between arrows. She saw the fear in his eyes; he thought he was going to die. She knew that if she were to land on him in this form, she would crush him and he really would die, but that was not her goal.

Mid-leap she shifted to her other form and slammed into him, knocking him over onto his back. His longbow bounced out of his hand when she pinned him down. Straddling him on her knees, her weight went to holding his biceps down. She tried hard not to notice how solid they were.

He just looked at her, eyes wide, mouth open, like he had never seen a druid before. "Stop gawking and close your mouth," she said, "I did warn you not to do that." Her voice was the same; it was just a prettier face.

"Um," he swallowed, "what just happened? Were you the big cat?"

She sighed. "Yes I was the cat. Now I am not. Anymore questions?"

"What are you?" his voice shook slightly, "Are you going to eat me?" his eyes were wide with shock.

A shudder passed through her and she looked away in disgust, "That is barbaric. I would never do such a thing, I don't even eat meat." She received a puzzled look. "As for what I am, I am an Elvin Druid of Shadow."

"A what?" he was thoroughly confused now.

They both heard footsteps at the same time and whipped their heads toward the noise. There was a group of men, hunters making their way down the trail. She leaped up, grabbed his bow and dashed into the forest. He was close on her heals only because he wasn't going to leave his bow. He followed her to a copse of white oaks deeper in the forest then he would have liked to be.

"Okay, now what's this all about?" he was a little upset and a lot confused and he wanted answers.

She held out his bow and he took it, watching her carefully. "I am Astralania of the House of Sorcera. I am an Elf of Magic and I have chosen to direct my power in the way of the druid."

"Do you have a nickname?" he asked, trying to take the sight of her in. She was tall and thin with thick, snowy white hair. He had noticed that when she moved, he could see the black streaks hidden in it, but standing still, it was a curtain of frosty strands. Her features were delicate, with the exception of the small fangs she retained from her cat form, and her storm blue eyes had no pupil. She wore a kind of light, fitted armor that shimmered silver in the light and looked expertly crafted.

The corner of her mouth twitched, "You may call me Astrid." She motioned to the ground, "Sit, please."

As they sat, he took a moment to ask a question he had been forming since she introduced herself. "If you have a life with your own people, why are you here?" He was still a little dazed.

A look of intense sorrow came over Astrid's face. "My people are being slaughtered," She said faintly. "The other elves believe we hold too much power and they are afraid we will try to overthrow the Great Council. It has been genocide for years."

"The other elves? The Great Council?" he was genuinely interested but still confused.

"Allow me to explain." She cleared her throat, "There are seven species of elves: Blood, Sea, Night, Forest, Sun, Wind, and Magic. We each have our specialties and values and we look very different. The Blood Elves largely have blonde or red hair and light pink skin. They are the most human in their ways; you share many of the same attributes with them. They do not have magic, though they understand and respect beings that do. They are more of a warlike people and they have quick tempers. We, the Magic Elves, are their opposite. We do not like violence; we are beings of peace, intelligence, and true magic. All of the truly powerful oracles, seers, druids, and sorcerers come from among my people. The Night Elves are expert blacksmiths and spies; their violet skin and deep blue hair help them blend with the shadows. They make base armor and close quarter weapons and are the best hippogryph trainers of—"

"Wait, slow down. What are hippogryphs, and why are you telling me all of this?"

Astrid looked down at her hands in her lap, "We," she started, shaking her head as if she couldn't believe what she was saying, "As a people, the Elves of the Wind, the Sun, the Forest and of Magic beg for the help of your king. The Blood and Night Elves are waging war against us- we stand no chance unless we have aide."

The man thought these facts through before replying. "You said there were seven types of elves," he paused and she nodded. "Then wouldn't the odds be two to five against them?"

She smiled sadly, "It would seem so wouldn't it. Well, we cannot count on the Sea Elves- they retreated beneath the waves many centuries ago after we told them to stay in one world or the other. The Elves of Blood and Night make up about half of the total population- they each have ten to twelve houses. Us on the other hand, out of the four types of us left on land, each has between three and seven houses each."

"What are houses?" he asked, he was very close to going into information overload.

"Essentially they are the social standings- some are more prestigious and exclusive than others. For example, among my people there are only three houses: Sorcera, Magius, and Arcana. Arcana is the highest with those of noble blood and those who have mastered their craft. Magius is the middle with the masters and the apprentices who are already proficient in their chosen craft. It is also home to those with promise or talent in their field because it is rare to become an apprentice. Sorcera is the lowest, consisting of those who are undecided or are learning their trade. Each house has anywhere from seventy-five to two hundred elves at anytime."

"Then there aren't a lot of your people." Astrid shook her head at the statement, she was still looking at her hands. "I'm sorry but what can I do about all of this? You don't even know me."

Now she looked up into his face with eyes full of anguish and a glimmer of hope, "Gilan, King's Ranger of Whitby Fief," she spoke softly and slowly but Gilan started when she said his name. Astrid continued, "You can get me an audience with your King Duncan."

There was a thoughtful silence between them for a while and Gilan swore he could hear the trees encouraging him to help her. He looked at her again, though she seemed young enough, there was a hardened look about her as if she really had been fighting- there were a few scars marring her otherwise flawless pale skin and she looked slightly haunted. He noticed a wispy, close fitting silver necklace around the upper part of her long neck and there was a fresh-looking gash starting midway down her neck that continued on to the middle of her chest.

"Look," he said, breaking the silence, "I can't promise you anything, but if it's as urgent as you say it is, I believe I know someone who can get you in to see him right away."

Astrid's delicate features lit up with hope, "Thank you so much!" she said excitedly. She then leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. As she did so, Gilan was aware of a rumbling deep in her throat and realized with a start that she was purring.


	2. Chapter 2

After two days of travel, they arrived at the small cabin set back in the woods by Castle Redmont. The stones of the keep glowed their eerie red with the light of the setting sun as Gilan slammed his fist into the door.

A few seconds later, Will pulled in the door and checked it over for dents. "I don't appreciate you trying to break down my door in the middle of dinner, Gilan." His tone was teasing though and the two men embraced. Will pulled the other Ranger inside and shut the door.

Gilan said his hellos to Alyss, who now stood in the kitchenette by the stove to warm herself, then got down to business. "Where's Halt?" he asked looking into each of the other rooms.

"He's at the castle," Will replied, "trying to enjoy the rest of the evening with his wife."

"Right," Gilan had just remembered that Halt and Pauline were now married. "It's really hard to think of him as a married man. He just never seemed like the marrying type."

Alyss immediately thought of her mentor, "Well, I'm glad for Lady Pauline's sake that he is." She turned to look out the window into the descending night.

Will turned back to his friend, "Sorry, I guess you'll have to wait until morning to—"

"Gilan," Alyss interrupted Will, which was totally out of character for her. Both of the men turned their attention to her.

"Yes?"

Alyss was peering out of the window. "Who is that?"

Will joined her and saw immediately what she was talking about. He whistled and turned back to Gilan, "Jenny is _not_ going to be happy about this," he said, a wide grin spreading across his face. "That girl better watch her head."

"Jenny has nothing to worry about- that girl is my business with Halt," Gilan felt himself getting defensive, but he was determined not to let it show.

"I'm sure Halt will be pleased to know that his former apprentice has business with him and a young girl." Will received a baleful glare from both Alyss and Gilan this time.

Gilan sighed and continued, "Any possibility we could sleep here tonight?"

Will cast a doubtful eye around the cabin, "Maybe you could," he said. "I don't know about your guest though."

"She can't be too objectionable," Alyss put in. "If she wants, she can stay with me up at the castle for tonight."

"That will be for her to decide then," Gilan walked out the door to tell Astrid of the arrangements.

He found her with Blaze a little way out from the cabin. She was singing softly to the mare and stroking her nose. The little horse was blissful until her master stepped out of the house- she whickered a greeting to him as he approached.

"Well," began Gilan, "the man we need is spending the night in the castle with his wife. We will have to talk with him in the morning when he comes down here."

"What will we do until then?" she asked, still gently stroking Blaze. The elfmaid's strange eyes shone out at him in the failing light and her skin seemed to emit the faintest silver glow.

"I will be spending the night here in the cabin. You can do the same, but there are only two beds and Will snores, or you can go up to the castle with Alyss."

Astrid smiled, "I think I'll go with this Alyss girl."

They walked back to the cabin where Will and Alyss were standing on the porch saying good night. Gilan introduced them when they reached the porch.

Astrid directed her words at Alyss but kept the whole group involved, "I have decided, if it is alright with you, that I shall spend the evening at the castle." Now she spoke only to Alyss, "You don't seem like an objectionable girl, thank you very much for the invitation."

"Of course," Alyss smiled warmly and took up her arm. "Come," she said, "you must desperately want a hot bath."

Two hours and a tub of very hot water later, Astrid was sitting before Alyss in front of the vanity, allowing her to play with her hair. She wore the white sleeping gown she had been loaned and her wet hair was almost translucent as Alyss brushed through it.

"You're so young," Alyss mused, "but your hair is so white."

Astrid smiled, "I am not nearly as young as you think."

"You can't be that old and have a complexion like yours."

Turning around to face Alyss, she said, "I am one hundred and twenty-six years old. I was born with white hair though. Most of my people have white or silver hair." Astrid had already explained the plight of the elves to a more than sympathetic Alyss and thinking about them now made her feel guilty for indulging herself like she has been in this country. She understood though, that in seeking help as she was, she couldn't do anything more from this distance and she had to take care of herself.

"You're one hundred and twenty-six?" Alyss's eyes almost doubled in size.

Smiling sadly, Astrid nodded and stood. She made her way over to the window and looked out at the sliver of moon in the sky. "All elves are long lived," she said simply.

"It must be awful." The statement caught the elfmaid off guard; she wasn't used to humans being able to see the truth of living for so long. The room lapsed into silence as both girls listened to the night sounds. Outside, a chill breeze stirred the trees and the last of the season's crickets chirped their eulogy for summer.

Alyss added another log to the waning fire and sat in the chair Astrid had just left. "What's it like being immortal?" she asked softly.

Astrid took a few breaths before answering. "It is terrifying. If you live for so long, you will see many things. Most will be forgotten, but some will be so strong, they never fade," her voice broke and she struggled to regain composure, looking to the moon for strength. "Some things will stay with you forever, whether they are good or bad." Memories Astrid had tried to bury sprang unbidden to the forefront of her mind; memories of times before the Blood Elves had tried to seize control, of her mother, smiling, happiness. Then images of the fires, the blood, the violence, the mangled and broken bodies on the floor of the lyceum.

Suddenly, the world was fuzzy and she couldn't breathe right. Astrid squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to stem the flow of opalescent tears splashing to the stone below her. She heard the soft foot falls of the human girl then felt the warm concerned embrace and murmured consolations breathed into her hair. _This frail human knows nothing of the horrors of the world and what they can do to people. She has not seen my sorrows, and yet, she grieves with me. Funny creatures to be able to relate to someone they know nothing of._

Alyss led Astrid over to the fire and sat her down in the cushy armchair in front of it. The elfin girl wasn't crying outright, but silent tremors shook her slender frame. She curled into a ball in the chair and allowed Alyss to cover her with a blanket and gently dab at her face with a warm damp cloth.

The warmth combined with the light, rhythmic strokes of the cloth lulled Astrid into an uneasy sleep…


	3. Chapter 3

_The screaming woke me. It was a familiar scream, but it was filled with terror. And the voices, the angry loud voices barking threats and orders. My room was in the middle of the tower Sorcera, the single window open to the forest. Leaping out of bed, I ran for the door, pulling it open and emerging in the narrow hall way bursting with elves. Some were familiar faces- Head of Sorcera, friends, relatives; others were strangers. Their flame red armor broke the continuity of the iridescent surroundings as they pounded on doors, demanding that everyone go to the lyceum immediately._

_I was rushed off in the opposite direction. We made it halfway down the next hall before we were stopped by another group of the strange warriors. Their shouts were muffled by the robes of the elf in front of me. She was challenging them, her hand extended toward them threateningly. They shouted at her, telling her to give me to them. There was a flash and one of the invaders dropped to the floor clutching his eyes. One of the others growled and lunged forward, gold blade glinting in the moonlight and I felt the jolt of the impact through the robes I was holding on to. The elf woman fell to her knees, then to her side and reached for my hand. I grabbed it like a lifeline and felt the magic in her touch. My eyes widened as the tingling sensation rushed from her hand to mine, filling me up, swelling my own magic and lending me strength._

_I did feel stronger, but I wasn't strong enough to break the grip of the two remaining Blood Elves. They grabbed me up, one on each arm, and dragged me sobbing to the ground floor with the others of my people. We were scared, and I was starting to feel trapped. I was used to space, not to this many people packed into the smaller lyceum. I closed my eyes, telling myself to breath and calm down. _

_Then I heard it. The scream that shattered my heart._

Astrid jerked awake, gasping for breath. Alyss had gone to sleep and the fire was now little more than dying embers, allowing a pre-dawn chill to settle around the room. A shiver shot up her spine as the scream echoed in her ears.

_If you live for so long, you will see many things. Most will be forgotten, but some will be so strong, they never fade._ "They stay with you forever," she whispered softly into the semi-darkness.

Later that morning, Alyss woke alone in her room. She was usually awake before breakfast was brought to her door, but today the tray was waiting for her on the table in the corner of the room. The delicious scents of bacon and coffee filled the air making her mouth water. The fruit was missing though, and looking around she could see none of Astrid's things, nor the elf herself. The sun had just cleared the horizon, so Alyss assumed the elfmaid had already gone down to the cabin. Unfortunately, she had no way of knowing what Astrid was really up to. . .

The grass tickled Astrid's stomach as she glided forward on whispering paws. It felt so good to stretch in this form again; it had been three days since she had morphed into her animal. Pricking her ears, she could just pick up whispers of conversation from the small cabin a few meters in front of her.

A few steps closer… the voices abruptly sharpened and she could hear every word. The Ranger, Gilan, was speaking now, about her and her people. The skeptical response came from a new voice. Quieter and older than Gilan, this was the person that could get her to the king.

Astrid crept even closer, trying to catch a scent from inside. She was almost directly under the window and all she could smell was the damned coffee, it was masking any other scents that might be coming from the cabin. A low growl emanated from her throat out of pure annoyance. On the journey here, the only thing Gilan had made to drink every time they stopped had been coffee. She couldn't understand it. It was a bitter, dark, fetid drink and did nothing for the health of the drinker. All movement and sound had ceased in the house. _Shit…_ she thought, _they heard me_. Astrid began silently back the way she had come, behind the little house and into the woods.

Pain blossomed behind her right shoulder before she reached the tree line. The force of the arrow swayed her against the cabin and she let out a piercingly loud screech as she turned to look for the shooter. She was momentarily reminded of the woman who had tried to protect her from the invading Blood Elves, the jolt when the sword entered her flesh.

Scanning the trees with her sharp eyes she caught the flick of another arrow whistling through the foliage. It grazed her tail when she flinched to avoid it and she screeched again. By now Gilan and the other man had run outside. Gilan shouted something at the bushes about fifty meters away and a figure detached itself from the greenery, another arrow nocked but not drawn. His cowl was pulled down, throwing his face into shadow, and his scent was masked by the smell of coffee still pouring from the cabin; there was no way to determine who this stranger was.

Astrid pulled her tail into her side and tried putting her paw down flat. She was rewarded by more shooting pain when her leg pushed on the arrow imbedded in her side. Growling, she tried to shrink back into the shadows, but it was hard to do with red staining her black and white fur.

There was more yelling from Gilan and the man in the bushes while the other man near Gilan stood and shook his head silently. Astrid was able to hobble until she was almost concealed by the brush. She wedged herself firmly against the trunk of a tree in a cluster of young ivy and buried her teeth in her left foreleg, dreading what she had to do.

The onset of the change was the least painful part. She knew she had to hurry, it would be less painful, she hoped, and less embarrassing. She was wrong. As her torso was shortening, fire ripped through her chest. Her body convulsed, each spasm sending waves of agony to every inch of her lithe body. Teeth punctured flesh and she cried out, tears streaming unchecked from her tightly closed eyes. Her arms shortened and grew slimmer, her legs longer and her head and face lost their feline features. The last thing to go was the tail; it shrunk up into her back, the gash from the arrow opening up at the top of her tailbone. Astrid shrieked again as her bones set into place, that was normal, but it just added to the pain.

The entire process took close to two minutes, plenty of time for the three Rangers to gather round and watch her writhe in agony. When she finished, Astrid could only lie on the ground gasping for breath, whimpering in pain every time her chest moved. She clutched at the arrow, but couldn't get to a straight enough angle to pull the broad head out.

She gave up and just slumped against the cool ivy leaves. A firm hand was placed on Astrid's side, positioned so the arrow was in the gap between the thumb and index finger. She felt when the arrow was gripped, but she wasn't expecting the tug to come so soon. Flesh tore and a sharp gasp escaped her lips. Blood started to flow, tickling her as it trickled down her back, soaking her tunic and staining it scarlet. Then there was pressure as whoever it was tried to staunch the bleeding.

Again the image of the impaled elfin woman appeared before her eyes. From there, she faded into crimson oblivion, dimly aware of deep voices floating in the air around her.


	4. Chapter 4

Gilan paced the length of the main room of the tiny cabin, waiting for Astrid to regain consciousness. He mentally kicked himself for not telling Will about her abilities. Once Will had realized it was her, he, of course, immediately blamed himself for not seeing it. Gilan glanced at him. He was sitting in one of the wooden chairs by the table, head in hands, elbows on knees; his misery was almost palpable.

Alyss had shown up shortly after they had brought the elfmaid back to the cabin and was now sitting in the room with her. Halt was in the room as well, watching her injuries to make sure they didn't open up again. He had told both Gilan and Will to get out on account of the moping and pacing in the small space.

Gilan now walked over to the bedroom door. He had barely touched it when he heard a voice from inside, "Not yet, Gilan," Halt said from within. Gilan sighed and resumed his pacing.

Inside the tiny bedroom, Astrid was just becoming aware of her surroundings. She blinked several times, her eyes adjusting to the midmorning light streaming in through the window. Alyss sat on the bed beside her, stroking her forehead with a cool cloth while Halt reclined in a chair at the foot of the bed, arms crossed, taciturn as ever.

Halt had cleaned her wounds and stopped the bleeding as best he could, but the bite mark on her left fore arm still welled with blood. Her arm was the only thing he hadn't bandaged yet and Alyss was dabbing at it as well.

Astrid knew better than to try to sit up right away. She also knew that she wouldn't feel the full impact of her wounds until she was completely awake. Slowly, her whole body started to throb, pain flared through her in waves emanating from her back and right side. She gingerly rolled onto her left side, careful not to move her arm. Almost immediately, the burning sensation in her lower back ceased and she sighed in relief.

There was not much to the room. The bed, a chair, and a small dresser were the only furnishings. She could hear pacing in the adjacent room through the closed door and occasionally there were voices, one deep with remorse, _the one who shot me_, she thought, and one with a more agitated note that she recognized as Gilan.

"I'm glad you're awake and not in too much pain," Alyss said, raising her hand to dab at the bite again.

Astrid smiled tightly as she caught Alyss's hand. "Thank you, Alyss," she glanced at Halt at the foot of the bed. Alyss took the hint and, standing to exit the room, dropped the cloth in the bowl beside the bed on her way out.

As soon as the door closed Astrid was pushing herself into a sitting position, her back as straight as she could keep it. Halt watched her intently as she situated herself and began pulling off her bandages. "You should leave those on," he mused.

"If you were my physician," she said meeting his eyes, "or if I were human and therefore unable to heal myself, I might heed your words, but you are not my physician and I am not human, you are unfit to counsel me in medicine." Both of Halt's eyebrows rose as she spoke. "Now, did you put any kind of salve on my wounds?"

His posture didn't change as he listened, nor when he replied simply, "I made no attempt to advise you on decisions made regarding your injuries. It was merely a suggestion to be taken or rejected at your discretion. The only salve I used was to protect against infection."

Astrid removed the last of the bandages from her midsection and nodded, looking at the bowl of water on the floor, "I appreciate your effort, but it must be washed off."

He stood and walked to the bed, picking up the bowl with the cloth on the way. Gently as he could, Halt wiped the puncture on the upper right side of her back clean of the salve. As he worked, he noticed her apparent lack of modesty didn't bother her at all. She just sat patiently, half-naked on the bed, like she did it every day.

Shaking his head he pushed her forward and started wiping at the gouge in her lower back. "I'm trying to be gentle," he said after she had jerked away from his hands a few times.

"It's not that. I could care less about the pain." Astrid's voice was light, elated as if she were laughing. "I'm ticklish there is all."

She received no response as he finished removing the salve from her back. Halt tossed the cloth into the bowl, water sloshing over the edges, and exited the room without shutting the door behind him.

Astrid was preparing to morph when there was a knock on the half open door. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Gilan standing in the doorway, eyes wide in shock. "I am fine," she said dismissively.

Morphing wasn't as painful this time, she knew what to expect and braced herself for it, but white hot lightening still seared through her whole back, right side, and left arm. She ground her lengthening teeth together and managed to stay silent throughout the change. Testing her paws, Astrid judged that it was not time to leap out the window and dash into the forest.

As she was pushing past Gilan who was still standing staring at her, she said without looking up, "You really ought to stop gawking at me with your mouth open. It's not very attractive." At this Gilan shut his mouth and blinked.

Astrid limped into the main room and sniffed out the front door. She turned and sat by the door, tail lashing as she looked around the room. It was small, fitting a small kitchenette, a fireplace, and a table with a few chairs. Will and Alyss were sitting at the table talking in low voices and Halt was leaning against the wall near the fireplace watching her. There was no fire in the grate, the mid morning sun was warming and bright enough. The strong sunlight splashed against the wooden walls making them look lighter than the really were.

Tired of waiting, Astrid cleared her throat, attracting the attention of everyone in the room. "Will somebody please be kind enough to open the door? I would do it myself, but I do not seem to have thumbs." Now they were all gawking with their mouths open.

She rolled her eyes and cleared her throat, which for a tiger is more like a half roar combined with a purr. "The door, someone?" she said impatiently. Halt was the first one to shake himself out of it, and walking to the door, he pulled open for her. She stalked out with a muttered "thank you" and made her way painfully to the trees.

Slowly, Astrid pushed her way through the woods to where she had left her pack, wishing the entire way that she could run and stretch her limbs. After almost half an hour of the laggard pace, she reached the small clearing with the tree she used as a storage space.

She quickly morphed and pulled the thickly woven canvas bag out of the tree. Stripping out of her dirty leggings, she fished a new pair out of her bag and tugged on a pair of knee high boots over them, the leather of which was supple and stretched to fit her feet. Then, she rummaged around until she found her spare tunic. Fawn brown, thin and by human standards "daringly cut", but it was soft and comfortable so she slipped it over her head and laced up a wide, fitted leather belt around her waist over it. The belt was a utilitarian sort with straps sown onto it to hold weapons and such. Another belt, this one much thinner, went around her hips and held an assortment of pouches. She also pulled out her cloak, a simple, light, silvery gray affair that draped loosely around her shoulders, but didn't weigh her down. Lastly, she slid two short daggers into the two loops on the back of her belt and shoved a slender dirk into her right boot. Standing, Astrid slung her pack on under her cloak, flicked her hood up over her head, and took off back the way she had come.

As she walked, she whispered to the shadows, summoning a healing darkness that swirled around her as she pushed through the bushes. Tissue and muscle were being sewn back together, slowly but surely. Astrid's eyes, normally light cobalt, became a dark stormy gray as she whispered the words of magic. She directed the magic to focus mainly on the wounds on her back, sending just enough energy into her arm to jumpstart the healing process. If someone were to watch closely, they would see a faint cloud of shadow slowly being absorbed into the silver clad figure at the center.


	5. Chapter 5

By the time she returned to the cabin, Astrid's vision was hazy, a side effect of using so much magic. She was also dead tired, but determined not to let it show as she lightly rapped her knuckles on the door. A moment later, it swung inward on squealing hinges, revealing the short, bearded man the others had called Halt. Gesturing for her to come inside and make herself at home, he returned to the table and the steaming mug that sat upon it. Astrid's nose twitched. _What is it with these Rangers and coffee?_

She was so serious about this question that she decided to ask. "Why, may I ask, are you Rangers so attached to coffee?"

After taking a long swig from his mug, Halt looked up at her. "It is," he began, a philosophical look to his features, "the juice of life, nature's pick-me-up, the elixir of alertness." Studying her tired features and clouded ice blue eyes he said, "You look like you could use a mug."

"No!" Astrid replied too quickly. She dropped her bag down from her shoulders and, taking a seat at the table, withdrew a small looking glass from a side pocket. Her eyes had started regaining their color since she stopped using magic, but until the energy fatigue wore off, they would still be hazy. "Merde," she swore under her breath, closing her eyes and dropping her head into her hand. "Tres, tres fatigué," she whispered to herself again.

"You speak Gaelic?" There was a note of surprise in his voice as he studied her again.

"A little," she nodded, mystified as to how he had heard her speak- she was sure she hadn't said anything at any great volume. "So," she continued, sitting up straight, "let's get to the meat of the matter, as you humans say." The words stuck slightly in her mouth like too much honey, only not as sweet.

Halt raised a thick, dark eyebrow and motioned for her to continue.

"I am assuming the Ranger Gilan has informed you of me and my people and the situation we face."

He nodded curtly, "That would be correct. He also told me why you are here in Araluen and here in my house."

"Good. Then I would like to formally plead with you to do what ever you can to get me an audience with His Royal Majesty, King Duncan. It is of the utmost urgency."

Halt sat thoughtfully sipping his coffee for a few minutes before speaking. "How are your injuries?"

Astrid knew what he was doing and decided to just go along with it. "They should be fully healed within the week, though there will be a few nasty scars."

"Within the week?" he said, raising an eyebrow once again. Astrid merely nodded in response and he continued. "Is it safe to assume this has something to do with your exhaustion and your eyes?"

_This Halt is quite observant, I'm going to have to watch myself around him,_ she thought before replying. "Yes. The cloudiness and pallor of my eyes is the unfortunate result of energy fatigue. The exhaustion is just because healing is so difficult."

Halt sipped at his coffee. "Difficult how?"

_Observant and curious._ "First, I am not trained as a healer. Second, healing wounds like mine would be incredibly taxing for even the most experienced healer because it requires so much energy."

"Alright," Halt began, downing the last of his coffee, "I will bring you to the king and see to it that you get your audience. When will you be fit to travel?"

Astrid released the air she'd been holding hostage in her lungs since he had started speaking and allowed herself a little smile. "Thank you so much. I believe tomorrow morning will be sufficient time for me to heal enough to travel."

"We leave tomorrow morning then." He stood to refill his mug with the repulsive liquid.

"Thank you," she said again as she stood and once more called the healing shadows to her. Halt studied Astrid intently as she whispered the summoning words and the air around her darkened with her eyes. He was sure she was speaking, but in the kind of whisper that is more felt than heard, like the shadows gathering about her slight body. Shoulders noticeably hunched, she turned on her heel and glided out of the cabin.

_It echoed in my ears, freezing me in place. My vision grew hazy and my palms moist, the din of the other elves faded as blood roared through my ears. Breath caught in my throat and lungs and it was a long while before I remembered to breathe. With a feeling of apprehension, I pushed my way through my horror-stricken people, trying following the sound to its source. _

_I broke through to the center, but was pushed roughly back by a guard. I froze. On the floor were two elfin women, one smaller, with trailing multi-faceted hair, the other tall and willowy with thick snow white hair. My mother. In the center with them were three warriors, crimson plates glimmering, leaning threateningly over them and smiling cruelly._

_The women sobbed hysterically and my heart, already frozen, shattered. I desperately tried to claw my way to my mother, screaming at the top of my lungs, but to no avail. The guards, truly heartless beings as they were, beat me back until I was bloody, but my mother had already seen me. She rushed to me and was slammed with the hilt of a sword. She sprawled onto the white marble, staining it red as her unconscious body slide along its slick surface._

_The guards turned their attention back to me, I was still trying to reach my senseless mother. One of them grabbed me by my hair and tugged me behind him to one of the great marble pillars. He flung me forward, my head collided with the dense stone. I slid down the smooth plane, no longer able to feel myself. All I felt was cold, all I saw was white. Then red. Then nothing._

All afternoon, Astrid had slept in the cover of the trees near the cabin as she drew strength from the shadows around her. She would wake periodically and cocoon herself in an intense swirl of dark energy, greatly expediting the healing of her wounds until she passed out again. About the third time she had done this, the gouge in her lower back had healed completely, leaving a line of smooth, indented skin and the bite on her arm and puncture in her back were little more than crusted over scabs. After the fourth time, she no longer felt the pull of the fibers of her body as she twisted to the side and the familiar itch that meant healing was almost finished surrounded her wounds. Still, even close to the end as she was, she didn't want to exhaust herself completely, so she decided to just rest.

The last of the sun had disappeared over the horizon when she woke to see tiny flickers of movement headed her way through the forest. A moment later, a green-gray clad figure materialized before her and threw the cowl of the cloak back to reveal the Ranger Will.

"Yes?" she said, remaining in her seat on the ground.

"I- I wanted to tell you how truly sorry I am and how badly I feel about," he wouldn't meet her eyes; she could feel the self-loathing coming off of him in waves, "you know, shooting you. I wanted to apologize."

"Your apology has been accepted." Astrid allowed a small smile and seeing that Will wanted to say more, she said, "Is that all you came here to tell me?"

Relief was evident in his features as he finally met her eyes; their cobalt stillness unsettling yet reassuring at the same time. "I wanted to ask you…" he trailed off unsure how to phrase what he wanted to say. "Halt told me we were leaving tomorrow, so I was going to have dinner with a few friends. I wanted to ask you if you would like to come with me. The cook, an old friend of mine, is the master of food and her meals are absolutely to die for."

She smiled again and tilted her head a little to the right. "I take it that means the food is good," her puzzled tone prompted Will to nod vigorously. "I would very much like to come then."

Will grinned widely and held out a hand to help her to her feet. Astrid took it and he felt like he was pulling a feather off of the ground as he pulled her to stand and she gracefully stretched and yawned. She did look rather catlike tugging the kinks from her muscles and when she yawned, he thought her incisors looked abnormally large for such a slight girl.


	6. Chapter 6

There were no open tables at the inn when Will and Astrid stepped inside, heads down, cowls thrown over their faces. On the way over neither had made much noise except for a few snippets of light conversation, and that included walking and breathing, Astrid had been impressed. Now, the warmth of the inn surrounding them, they threw back their cowls and Will quickly located the table Alyss and Gilan had saved toward the door to the kitchen.

"Jenny's got a crowd tonight that's for sure," Alyss mused as they sat down, Will next to her and Astrid across from him next to Gilan. Turning to Will, she said, "George said he might be able to join us later after he finishes his documents."

"I haven't seen him in," Will paused, trying to think of the last time he had seen his old friend, "I don't know. It seems like forever. How is he doing?"

"Like a scribe," Alyss replied with a fondness that said they had known each other for a while. "Overworked, ink-stained, and cheery as anyone has a right to be," she smiled at this statement and so did Will, only because it was all true.

As the two talked, Astrid glanced around the room. It was comfortably warm and well lit and everybody all around them seemed to be having a good time. Everyone was also quite conscious of the delicious aromas of all sorts spilling from the kitchen, sweet, spicy, smoky, sour, rich, moist… meat. Most of the scents wafting over were accenting the main, stronger scents of lamb, pork, venison, beef, chicken, duck, quail, pheasant and even a little rabbit. _This,_ Astrid thought,_ is why humans are despicable._

The scents intensified as the kitchen door was pushed open and a girl holding four different dishes strode over to one of the tables and placed three of the plates in front of the occupants then made her way to a second table occupied by two women who had apparently decided to share a meal. The girl searched the tables then and, eyes lighting on theirs, hurried her way towards them.

"Hey!" she said cheerily, "Where's George? I thought he was coming too."

"He got caught up at the castle," Will replied, "He should be here soon."

Astrid sat quietly while the old friends happily chatted about what new food Jenny came up with when she noticed an obscure smudge in the corner. Finding she couldn't focus on it, she tried ordering the shadows to part, but they wouldn't obey. Worried, she quickly turned away, her mind racing, _who could possibly control the shadows here?_ She thought desperately, _I made sure I wasn't followed… but it seems I didn't do a very good job._

Gilan's voice broke into her thoughts and by the look on his face, he had repeated himself a few times to get her attention. "Astrid," he said, "what do you want to eat for dinner?"

Embarrassed, she looked up at Jenny, whose expression had changed now that she noticed who Gilan was dining with. Astrid tried a small smile after she ordered just steamed vegetables and rice and received a dark scowl and narrowed eyes in return before Jenny swiftly made her way back to the kitchen.

Apparently, Gilan had noticed the look as well and sighed, "She's probably thinking that you're my date tonight. I should probably go talk to her."

Realization dawned on Astrid as she saw Gilan's face heat up, "Oh, do go speak with her then, I wouldn't want her to think as such." She kept her clouding eyes fixed on the table as she spoke.

Gilan was silent for a moment before asking, "Astrid, are— is everything ok?"

She turned her foggy cobalt eyes on him and smiled. "Yes, please go speak with Jenny." Seeing his reluctance, she placed a gentle hand on his arm, "Please," she said.

Gilan stood and made his way toward the kitchen. The shadows in the corner shifted and began to steadily move towards them. After a quick glance at Gilan, Astrid took a breath and put her arm on the table with a muffled clang, drawing the attention of Will and Alyss across from her.

"Astrid," Will said cautiously, "what is it?"

Astrid's grip on the dagger in her hand tightened as the presence in the corner drew closer. Chills shot up her spine when the first kiss of foreign shadows flitted across the back of her neck. "Don't fight it," Astrid whispered tightly, "just relax and let them take you."

Alyss gasped as the cold wind curled around them, blocking out their senses one by one. It eclipsed their eyes first, then plugged their ears, numbed their skin, filled their mouths. Dark tendrils constricted their bodies, pulling them into a void they couldn't even feel.


	7. Chapter 7

The first thing Astrid became aware of was the biting night air and the crinkling cushion she was sitting on. Then gradually her other senses came back to her and she heard Will and Alyss stirring on the ground beside her, but her vision remained dark. Apparently all of them were still blind judging from the sounds the others were making as well.

"Hm," a silky voice sounded not too far from the three of them. At the familiarity of it, Astrid stiffened and sucked in a breath while the others tried to figure out the source.

She tried with all her power to push the darkness from her eyes but it wouldn't even budge. Above and a little to the right of her someone chuckled smoothly and she lunged for it, the element of surprise on her side. She missed by a hairs breadth and went sailing by, cloak billowing behind her then snapping taut as the end was snatched up and held steady.

Astrid dropped the dagger in her hand as she scrabbled at the clasp, gasping for air while the cold chuckle resumed, but before she could release herself, a strong arm snaked around her waist and pulled her upright. She was held against a solid body that smelled of moonlight and rain. Just like… "Ryruil," she gasped at the realization. He undid the clasp of the cloak single handedly and sent it billowing to the ground a few meters away.

"I am glad you remember me, Astralania. I've missed you so very much. And thank you, by the way, for taking good care of my cloak." His voice was velvety and warm in her ear and sent shivers rolling up her back. "I was sent to find you."

Astrid grew still and quiet and as she hoped, the arm around her waist relaxed fractionally. "Ryruil, I will not return home until I have enlisted help for those very people," she said, abruptly jerking her head back into her captor's nose. Bone crunched and the darkness lifted from her eyes. Elvin swears rang through the trees as Ryruil desperately tied to stop the blood gushing from his face.

Will was already on his feet and helping Alyss to hers when Astrid turned to them. "Do you know where we are?" she asked, glancing at the dark trees around them.

Taking in his surroundings, Will replied, "I think—" a thin tendril of shadows coiled around his throat, constricting his airway stopping the words short. Astrid managed to throw up a shield around Alyss, a solid dome of compacted shadows, before anything could happen to her, but now she had to free Will.

As strong as her magic was, she couldn't break the hold of the tendril squeezing his throat, so she turned on the source. Gathering up a wave of shadow, Astrid coaxed it to form hundreds of razor sharp needles and sent the volley flying as fast as she could towards Ryruil. His eyes widened as he saw the attack and he quickly tried to shield himself, loosing his concentration momentarily.

Astrid used that momentary lapse to shatter the thread around Will's neck. He fell to his knees gasping air and Astrid quickly threw a shield around him and focused on Ryruil who was bleeding from the dozens of tiny punctures left behind by the shadow needles.

"You've grown weak," Ryruil said, shaking his mane of silver hair that just kissed the tops of his shoulders, "you used to be able to bend my shadows behind my back."

Astrid's lip twitched, she knew he wanted her to admit that he was now stronger than her, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction, "I've just been healing. It's quite taxing as you should know."

He scowled at the dig- he had never bothered learning to heal with the darkness. "And while you were learning that, I was learning this," he growled, a midnight whip coalescing in his hand. Ryruil brandished the whip over his head then brought it down with an echoing crack. He snapped it at a tree, scoring a deep gouge in the rough bark and sending splinters flying.

Thinking on her feet, Astrid padded her entire body with a protective layer of shadows and charged straight for Ryruil, sliding the other dagger out of her belt and switching her grip as she ran. Now too close to use a whip against, she leaped for his throat.

No longer able to use his whip, Ryruil allowed it to vaporize and pulled a gleaming short sword from his belt in time to knock Astrid to the side. The impact of the blade glanced off the shadow armor but she still felt the force behind it. Astrid rolled then sprang back up into a crouch. Her now gray and foggy eyes shone in the scant light of the stars and leaves poked out of snowy locks laced with black. She felt her tiger's fangs as they grew in her mouth and her fingers itched where her nails were sharpening into claws.

Ryruil turned his sword point in her direction. "It kills me to do this," he said, shaking his head slightly, "you are so beautiful when you're trying to take my head."

Astrid hissed and reached down to pull the dirk from her boot with her free hand and switched her grip on the dagger in her right hand again. The clang of fine steel rang through the forest as they charged each other, Astrid striking lightning fast right, overhead, right, left, each time Ryruil's hands deftly rose to fend her off with a quick flick of the wrist.

Blood spattered the forest floor from the many punctures on his body, the viscous red liquid making it slick so their feet slid slightly before settling in place. _This makes it all the more interesting,_ Astrid thought as she dove for Ryruil's chest again. She dug her weight in more with each step to steady herself while she ran headlong at him.

Ryruil ducked under her blades as they scissored over his head, switched his grip on his short sword, and sunk the pommel into her stomach, hard. Astrid doubled over, her mind numb of all but the throbbing in her abdomen. The shields over Will and Alyss faded then dissolved into tiny wisps of darkness.

Astrid coughed, eyes shut tight against the pain. She sank to her knees, maintaining her grip on her weapons.

"Get up," Ryruil demanded, "get up and fight, Sorceran." Then he kicked her. Ribs cracked and she flew backwards and slammed into a tree, both the dagger and the dirk flew out of her hands and her head sagged to the side. Blood trickled down the back of her neck from where she hit the tree, and her chest hurt with every breath she took.

Alyss could only watch in horror as Ryruil yanked Astrid to her feet by her arm and shove her to the middle of the clearing. She just stood and glared at him defiantly from beneath her sheaf of bloody hair.

"Fight me!" Ryruil was yelling at her, though she barely heard him. She was focusing on Will who had slunk behind one of the trees and was now pulling his throwing knife out of its sheath. He stepped from the cover so he could focus on his target and released the perfectly balanced blade. Hearing him at the last possible moment, Ryruil jerked backwards and the knife hissed by between him and Astrid. Will reached for his saxe knife and was able to draw it before his hand was pinned to the tree beside him with a ring of shadows.

Astrid took the few seconds that were not focused on her to swipe at Ryruil with her claws, scoring deep gashes on his cheek and after a second swipe, across his chest. She growled and leaped back before he could catch her with his sword again as he swung back to face her.

"Come on!" he taunted when she danced away. Ryruil grinned savagely and brought his dark whip to existence in his hand again, while keeping his sword in the other.

Astrid tried to run at him again, tried to get too close to use the whip against, but he flicked his wrist and caught her ankle, jerking her backwards with a pained yelp. She landed with an audible thump on her stomach and Alyss called her name, her voice muffled by the trees. With visible effort, Astrid pushed herself to her knees and stood.

Then she staggered, crying out in pain as fire ripped across her chest. The whip jerked her sideways along its path and quickly she felt its white hot bite lance through her back.

"How can you do this?" she gasped through streaming eyes.

Ryruil paused, a vicious look on his face. The allowed the whip to disintegrate and closed the space between them quickly. He gently raised Astrid's chin to look into her eyes, his own stony and guarded. He wiped the tears from her eyes and ran his salty thumb over her bottom lip. "My dear," he said quietly, "you do not know me at all. You don't know what I have been through." A single bead of iridescent moisture began its trek from the outer corner of his eye, the only sign of any emotion from him.

Astrid's eyes solidified, rage bubbling inside her, threatening to spill over. "I 'don't know what you've been through'? You do not deserve to say that. Do you have any idea what any of the rest of us have been through ever since you opened the tower doors for those bloodthirsty creatures?" Her voice broke with her anger and she slapped Ryruil, her claws scoring deep furrows in his fair skin.

"You betrayed us all. Your own people. I do not know why, nor do I want to. A sickening belief that maybe you could be powerful once they took over? Is that what it was? A play for money and power so you could live like a prince while we sprawled in squalor?"

"Astralania—"

"Or was it for revenge because you couldn't be with the one you loved?" By this point, the floodgate of emotions had been blown wide open and there was no stopping the torrent of words.

"Astral—"

"Your dearest Jarriaera. My oldest friend. I loved her very much and we never left each other's side. Until, you know, she was run through before my very eyes! To this day her magic courses through my veins, reminding me of what I have lost and how frail even our lives are."

"Astrid!"

"What?"

"Listen to me!" Ryruil said, a little exasperated. "Yes, I was sent to find you by the Sanguine Council, I am not really going to kill you, and yes, every day I regret my decision to betray you. The reason that _I_ came to find you was because of this," he paused and pulled a ring out of a pouch at his belt. "It is the only reason I was able to find you at all."

The ring, a thin pure diamond circlet, glowed softly with its own magic. Astrid gasped, fresh tears welling in her eyes. "My mother's ring," her voice was soft with astonishment. "How did you get this?"

"I, um," he knew the memories were still painful for her so he didn't exactly know how to phrase his next statement, "I picked it up off the floor of the lyceum after you were dragged away."

Memories resurfaced as Ryruil slid the ring onto her middle finger. The stone flashed and heated up as it settled onto her skin, then dimmed to a comfortable luminosity, but none of the heat left it. Then every repressed emotion came rushing back to her, they slammed into her like a stone wall.


	8. Chapter 8

_Later that night, I snuck out of the camp they had put us in and ran back to the lyceum, to my mother's ravaged body, broken and bleeding on the harsh marble floor. I knelt beside her, blood soaking through my gown. Her eyes were closed, as if she was sleeping, but even in death, she wasn't peaceful._

_I touched her hand, feeling the coldness of the smooth skin, then a shot of warmth up my fingertips. Startled, I looked down and saw the thin, pure diamond circlet on my mother's ring finger. I slipped it off her slender finger and slid it onto my own. It fit perfectly. I sighed and admired the warmth of magic emanating from it._

Astrid's fingers grazed the slender band, the heat of it soaked through her skin and warming her to the core. Her face softened and she sighed as she remembered her mother. She was unaware of her surroundings as the memory kept playing in her mind.

_I closed my eyes and breathed, trying to dispel the tears pooling behind my lids. Then I heard the heavy footfalls and shouts behind me, demanding to know what I thought I was doing. Quickly, I stood and turned to face two Blood Elves, one holding a torch, the other held one of their thin short swords. _

_I tucked my hands behind my back, and slid the ring off my finger. When they jerked my hands forward to bind them, I lost my grip on the ring and it flew out of my hand into the shadows on the opposite end of the lyceum. It made only a faint tinkling sound as it bounced across the floor. I knew better than to draw attention to it as my hands were bound tightly._

_Marching swiftly to the arched doorway, I saw a flicker of movement between the marble pillars where my mothers ring had been thrown, but dismissed it as I was shoved roughly through the doors._

Chilling dampness soaked into the thin fabric of her leggings as her knees hit the blood slickened leaves of the forest floor. Her breath came in shallow bursts and her cloudy, unfocused eyes fixed in space and never blinked. Eyes streaming, she allowed herself to _remember._

_My knees hit the ground hard, my gaze following. Before me sat the Crimson Council, in all their scarlet glory, ready to decide if I was to die here or there. The council spoke to me, demanded to know why I was in the lyceum at that time. I didn't answer so the guard behind me did. He told the council that I was trying to raise the two women from the dead._

_I just scoffed, appalled that anyone would say such a thing. Then I was smacked and told to 'mind my place slave'. The council listened to the guard tell his story then the head councilman called a name._

_Ryruil._

_My dear friend came hurrying from behind one of the flaps of the large tent, head bent, fingers twitching. The head councilman asked him what he thought my punishment should be and after a moment, Ryruil responded with twenty lashes, to which the other council members agreed. _

_Throughout the whole ordeal, he never met my eyes once. Just by that I knew he was the one who let these monsters into the tower. I only glared as I was dragged to my feet and pulled from the tent to the temporary holding cell where I would be kept until dawn._

Astrid put a hand to her neck, fingering the delicate spirals of her necklace as silent sobs wracked her body, her eyes shut tight. Ryruil knelt next to her, stretching a hand out to her then pausing and pulling it back, looking down at himself with a look of disappointment.

Across the clearing, Will and Alyss were watching them, rooted to where they stood, watching the glittering tears fall from Astrid's face. Several minutes later, she looked up, her pale eyes still overflowing. "Will," she said, her voice rasping slightly, "if you know where we are, please go back to the restaurant with Alyss. I wouldn't want to worry anyone anymore."

There was concern written all over his face as he looked her over; she was bloodstained and dirty, her clothes were torn in places and she had leaves sticking out of her hair. There were bloody welts across her back and one on her chest and the skin on her ankle was torn and bleeding from Ryruil's whip. All in all, her wounds weren't fatal at all, but what made her look so derelict were the tears streaking down her face and her expression. Her face was the look of one who had been betrayed, abandoned, and hurt then after the wounds had healed, had been ripped open once more. Her face was angled down, her shoulders hunched, and he could tell she was trying to be strong, but she had no strength left. Will nodded silently, taking Alyss's hand and leading her away with out a backward glance.


	9. Chapter 9

Astrid sat, somewhat disgusted with herself for melting in his hands like that. He could just kill her right now if he wanted to… She knew he wouldn't though, not with their past. She turned her gaze back to him, looking into his violet eyes and seeing sorrow and regret, but no pity. For that, she was grateful, she didn't need anyone's pity. "Why did you do it?" She asked suddenly, her voice low.

Ryruil sighed and looked at the ground beside him, gathering his thoughts for a few moments before answering, his gaze fixed on the dirt. "After Jarriaera said she didn't want to see me anymore I was bitter, to everyone and everything. I hated her, or so I thought. It turned out, I was desperate, I needed to feel wanted, like I was some use to someone. That's when I was approached. They offered power and freedom and shelter from persecution." He smiled bitterly, shaking his head. "I was so stupid to think I would actually receive what they promised, but I helped them. I helped them because I was angry at Jarriaera and angry at you because you were closer to her than I was." He paused, his eyes still fixed on the dirt as he drew in a deep shuddering breath. It was several minutes before he was able to speak again, his voice soft with remorse, "When I found you here, I lost sight of myself in my rage and despair. I know it's too much to ask that you ever forgive me, but I truly do apologize for every thought and feeling against you." When he finished speaking, Ryruil closed his eyes, awaiting her response.

She listened to his plea, thinking of how shallow and petty his thoughts must be to think that the correct revenge on an ex-lover was to betray his own people. No, she would never forgive him for his misdeeds, nor did she think that he was truly sorry for what he had done. In Astrid's opinion, every choice he had made, he had done for himself; opening the doors in revenge, coldly ignoring her in anger until now, when he had no one else to turn to and came crawling back to her in his fear of being alone. He was a selfish, arrogant, ignorant being, and as long as he lived, she didn't think that she could ever live in peace.

Reaching behind her neck, she unclasped her necklace then brought her hand down to her lap, concealing the jewelry beneath her hand as she slid the silver spirals together. She spoke to conceal her movements as well, her voice devoid of any emotion, "You're right, I cannot forgive you. But we can move on from this, forgetting the past, only looking to the future." She folded the spirals of her necklace until it became a hand sized weapon, ideal for her purpose. The necklace was another gift from her mother, though she received it long before the Blood Elves invaded.

Ryruil looked up at her words, his eyes full of hope at the ray of light she had shone him. She nodded, her face softening fractionally, and he sighed in relief, glad that she had found it in her heart to give him another chance.

Reaching out a hand to him, Astrid spoke again, in a friendlier tone this time, "Come, let us embrace in our new friendship." She breathed out as she leaned slightly toward him, her hand still held out to him.

He smiled fully and began to lean towards her, his arms outstretched to embrace her. In her mind, things moved in slow motion, like she was watching him through a filter, and everything became crystal clear to her. Astrid's senses heightened; she could hear tiny forest creatures scrabbling in the dirt, smell the loam and dampness in the air, her skin became hypersensitive to the slight draft through the trees and she felt her pulse slow, hearing her heart beat as it pumped blood through her body.

1…

Ryruil leaned in closer, she could smell his scent: wild berries and metal.

2…

She reacted and moved her body towards him. She could almost see his pulse pounding in his neck.

3…

Her hand itched, wanting to plunge her necklace-turned-dagger into his body, but she knew he was still too far for her to strike quickly.

4…

They were less than half a meter away from each other now. The moment felt surreal to her… she deceived him so easily. It was so simple to manipulate his guilt. Like molding wax, all she had to do was heat him up a bit and he would wrap around her like a doll.

5…

She felt his arms on her back, her own arm resting lightly around his neck. Her stomach turned over, but she told herself that he deserved this, she had good reason. Her resolve was strong as she let out a breath, feeling his head beside hers. She brought her hand up lightening fast, plunging her necklace dagger into his heart as far as she could.

Ryruil's eyes widened as he felt the cold metal in his body, the shock turning his blood to ice as it flowed out of him. She twisted the dagger in his body with a wet crunch, gripping his neck to hold him down as he jerked back away from her hand.

Blood dripped down her hand as she held the necklace-dagger, her fingers slipping slightly on the silver. She pulled it free and pushed him back, scarlet dripping down her forearm as well as his chest.

He stared at Astrid, shock and betrayal on his face and deep pain in his eyes. In her coldness, she stood, lifting her foot and pressing it to the puncture in his chest. Shoving him hard, she sent his limp body sprawling on the damp bed of leaves, looking down at him with his blood dripping from her hand.

Without a sound or a glance back, she turned on her heel and walked around the clearing to collect her scattered weapons, then out of the clearing and back to the restaurant.


	10. Chapter 10

On her way back from the clearing Astrid had unfolded her silver necklace and clasped it back around her neck, dropping it several times from the slickness of the blood that stained it. She had reached the restaurant and was standing just outside of it, cloakless in bloodied and torn clothes, her fair skin and white hair sticky with blood as she shrouded herself in shadows to heal and hide.

She glanced at the door, not being able to bring herself to enter. The strain from the bout in the forest had begun to make itself known as she calmed down, her neck and shoulders were sore and she had gashes on her chest, back, and ankle from Ryruil's whip. Pain in her hip told her the muscles there were pulled and her entire body was peppered in purple bruises of varying sizes. She was also dead tired, as she had discovered after her body had burned off the rest adrenaline.

Her eyes wouldn't focus when she tried to make them and she felt the blood on her hands and neck dry and crack, itching as it flaked off of her skin. Leaning against the side of the building, she wondered what the Araluens would think of her in this tattered bloodstained state…

* * *

By the time Will and Alyss returned to the restaurant, they were not very far ahead of Astrid. They had made their way back slowly, in a daze over what had happened. As they walked in, Will's cowl pulled low over his face, Alyss gripping his hand tightly, they attracted stares.

George had showed up and was sitting at the table with Gilan who was sitting shrouded in his cloak, head bent, and completely still. Seeing them, he jumped to his feet, looking them over for injuries. Will held up a hand in warning and Gilan sat down again, though still watching them anxiously.

Will and Alyss sat across the table from Gilan and George, who still had no clue what was going on, and glanced at each other. Then Will turned to Gilan and spoke in a quiet and rasping voice, "I don't know what happened."

Gilan took in the purpling bruise on Will's throat and the pallor of his and Alyss's faces and nodded. "We should get back to the cabin then, it's been a little more than an hour," he said in a low voice.

Will and Alyss nodded and stood along with Gilan and George. "We're terribly sorry George," Alyss told him.

"It's alright. We'll have dinner another time," his tone was subdued as if he sensed the situation.

Alyss nodded and followed Will to the door, then outside. They made their way to the road and began down it toward the cabin.

A soft thump drew Gilan's attention to the side of the building they had just exited. Hand on his saxe knife, he crept silently around the corner and almost tripped over a young woman in tattered clothes and white hair.

White hair.

Gilan knelt beside her, brushing her hair away from her face, already knowing that it was Astrid. The snowy strands were stuck together with a viscous dark liquid that he assumed, from the metallic smell, was blood. After quickly checking that her breathing was steady and that no bones were broken, he gingerly picked her up, one arm supporting her back, the other beneath her knees.

She was light as a feather in his arms and it was so easy to carry her, Gilan was afraid she would break in his grasp. Astrid only moaned once on the way to the cabin and that was when Gilan shifted his grip on her upper back. He had notice the gashes on her chest and back that were slowly but steadily oozing blood and he had seen most of the larger bruises through the tears in her clothes, but he didn't know the full extent of her injuries, so he kept from jostling her too much in his arms.

Back at the cabin, he tripped up the front step and stepped through the front door to find Will sitting at the table, the orange glow from the fire illuminating his face. He stood immediately when Gilan walked through the door with Astrid in his arms.

"Is she...?" The question died on his lips and he was unwilling to revive it as his eyes flicked to the limp form.

"She's alive, but unconcious," Gilan said, walking to the second bedroom that he had slept in the previous night.

Will followed him into the room and looked over her wounds after Gilan laid her on the bed. The gashes weren't deep and it was nothing she wouldn't heal from, but she had bled a lot and she was considerably paler. He stood and looked at Gilan in the half light of the little room, "She just needs to sleep."

Gilan sighed and nodded, "I'll stay up with her though, she probably has a concussion."

Nodding, Will stepped from the room, leaving Astrid to rest, and went to his own room, immediately dropping into his bed.

* * *

She was moving. No... She was definitely lying down. Then what was-

Astrid opened her eyes to find Gilan shaking her. "Wha-?" she mumbled before closing her eyes again. She was so exhausted and her entire body hurt, but he kept shaking.

"Come on, Astrid, stay awake," he was saying from above her.

Astrid groaned as pain bloomed all over her body, her mind becoming aware of all of her injuries as she woke. She opened her eyes again and raised her head to look around the room. _Back to square one, I see,_ she thought. She bent her arms and pushed herself into a sitting position, wincing from the gash across her chest.

In an instant, Gilan was beside her, gingerly supporting her back and helping her up. "Take it easy, okay?" he said, concern vividly coloring his voice.

She turned her head to look at him and a touch of a grim smile flitted across her lips. "I can't promise that. In fact, you can be sure I will not. The plans for our departure tomorrow have not been changed, have they?"  
"Um, I don't think so. I really don't think—"  
"Always a dangerous past time," a voice interrupted from the door way. Halt stood leaning his shoulder against the door frame and as Astrid flicked her eyes up to look at him, he met her gaze and held it, "We still leave tomorrow."

Astrid let out a breath of relief while Gilan looked ready to speak up again, only to be silenced by a glance from his former mentor. Nodding gratefully, she turned her attention into herself and began assessing how much healing magic she should distribute where. Sore muscles first, then any large lumps, those would take the least magic. Then the cuts and scrapes from the inner most point of the wound outward.

At the door, Halt gestured to Gilan, who stood and, after leaving his waterskin on the bed beside her, walked out of the room. "Be ready to go shortly after dawn," he told her before closing the door, leaving her in her solitude.

She thanked the stars that Ryruil's whip hadn't cut any deeper, or she would have problems the next day. Whispering the shadow summons, she set to work soothing her sore and stretched muscles, dark swaths soaking into skin and muscle where she directed it. Then the shadows moved on to the lump in the back of her head, decreasing the size by more than half and taking all of the pain out of it before moving on to the things that were possibly detrimental to her health. She first healed the gash across her chest, the skin weaving itself back together at an accelerated rate with the guidance of her shadow magic. Then she directed her magic toward the slashes on her back and ankle, though those weren't as severe as the one on her chest had been.

Several exhausting hours later, with all of the wounds that could possibly trouble her healed, she lay back down on the bed and fell immediately into a deep restful sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

After what seemed like roughly ten minutes of sleep, Astrid blinked herself awake. Taking a breath she sat up and tested each of her muscles, then stretched her arms up over her head in a proper, luxurious first morning stretch as she parted her jaws in a rather large yawn. Blinking in the momentary head rush, the early morning scents reached her nose along with the permeating smell of coffee. She nearly gagged.

She pushed herself out of bed as gray light streamed through the window, though it was still dim. Her pack had been put just inside the door and looking down at the torn, dirty, bloodstained tunic and leggings she still wore. With a sigh, she unbuckled her belts and pulled them off one at a time, dropping them on the bed. At least they hadn't gotten any blood on them.

Walking over to her pack, she pulled it open and began rummaging through it, finding the last pair of clean breeches and her last clean tunic. Astrid tugged her torn and stained tunic off and dropped it on the floor and slipped the new one over her head. It was a muted hunter green with full sleeves and a front that laced up to a high loose collar that folded over easily due to the lack of support in the material. She unlaced it to the top of her breasts and left the woven strands hanging.

Next, she slipped out of her stained leggings and piled them on top of her soiled tunic. Stepping into her breeches, she pulled them up and tugged them up over her hips. The material fit snugly around her hips and thighs, but it was of elven weave, so it stretched to accommodate the movements of her body and wouldn't tear under stress. Lacing them up and tying them off, she picked her wide, fitted belt up and secured it around her waist, then buckled the thinner one around her hips.

Glancing around, she didn't see her boots or weapons anywhere, so she stuffed her ruined tunic and leggings into her bag. Cinching it, she threw it over her back and opened the door, walking into the main room.

Immediately, Astrid was assaulted a much more powerful aroma of coffee and a lesser undertone of bacon and eggs. Mercifully, there was a bowl of fruit on the table as well, though it remained untouched by the three men sitting around the table.

Three heads turned toward her as she dropped her bag against the wall and moved to sit in the fourth chair across from Will. There was a plate already set for her and filled with bacon and eggs. Picking up her fork, she tucked into the eggs, being careful so as not to touch the bacon.

As she ate, she became conscious of both Will and Gilan, who sat to her left, glancing at the angry red line of fresh scar tissue across her chest. Halt pointedly chose not to stare at her chest, or watch her eat as she avoided the bacon on her plate at all costs. Astrid, on the other hand, ignored all three of them as she tried to block out the nauseating smell of the coffee.

Finishing her eggs, she reached for the fruit bowl, plucking a plump orange from the side. She pulled a dagger from her belt and scored the fruit twice all the way around, then proceeded to tear the quarter sections of fragrant orange rind from the meat. Worming a finger into the top where all of the pieces met, she pulled the fruit into two halves, setting one on her plate while the other stayed in her hand. All this, she had accomplished in less than two minutes.

While she waited for the men to finish their breakfasts, she sat back in her chair and peeled off pieces of orange and popped them into her mouth.

She received looks from all three men at the table, all of whom then looked at the untouched bacon on her plate. Finally, Gilan asked what they had all been thinking, "Astrid, are you going to eat your bacon?"

Taking her time chewing and swallowing a slice of orange, she savored the moment before shaking her head. "I do not eat meat. You are more than welcome to it." She gestured at the slices of meat still on her plate which Gilan more than happily reached over and took.  
Halt finished his food and took a long gulp of coffee, an amused look in his eyes as he watched Gilan. Will, on the other hand, looked rather put out that Gilan had thought to ask before he did.

Astrid watched all of these antics with a small half smile on her face as she ate her orange, managing to finish it before the others finished their coffee. She sat quietly until Halt took the last swig of coffee from his mug and stood.

"I'll be out preparing Abelard," he said, heading for the door.

Astrid sat for a moment, then stood and followed him to the door as Gilan followed Halt's example and polished off his coffee. On her way to the door, she saw her soft, worn traveling boots and stepped into them easily, the leather like material stretching around her feet and calves. She exited the cabin, Gilan behind her, her pack in hand, and began walking over to where the ponys' lean-to was. The sounds of leather straps being tightened reached her ears and one of the ponies whickered a greeting to Gilan as they came into sight.

She set her pack down and leaned against the support post of the lean-to, watching the men prepare their barrel-chested little steeds.

Halt waited a moment before he spoke, cinching Abelard's girth before turning to her. "You can double ride with Gilan, if you would like, or we can take a horse from the baron's stables for you."

Astrid was already shaking her head though, "No, thank you. My people do not believe in using beasts to do what we can ourselves. I prefer to run."

Not knowing her people well enough, Halt just nodded and said nothing, respecting her people's beliefs. Gilan looked at her curiously though, settling Blaze's saddle on the mare's back. "Are you sure? It's a long way to castle Araluen," he said, thinking of the distance that would take days to cover.

She nodded and spoke as she watched halt slip the bridle over Abelard's head, the bit slipping easily into the little horse's mouth. "I am positive. All I need is for my pack to be held."

Gilan shook his head doubtfully, but said nothing more as he pulled the girth tight under Blaze's shoulder.


	12. Chapter 12

Once the horses had been fully prepared and the saddle bags that Halt had packed the night before had been attached, she was about to ask about her weapons when Halt pulled her dirk and daggers from one of the saddle bags. The enchanted steel had been freshly and meticulously polished and shined when she pulled each weapon from its sheath to inspect it.

"Thank you," she said, sliding the last dagger back into its sheath. "Could you hold them for me for now though?"

Halt nodded and took the weapons back from her, slipping them back into the saddle bag. "And your pack as well?" he asked, remembering her words from earlier.

"Yes, thank you." Astrid slid the pack from her shoulder and handed it to him.

Weighing the bag in his hand, he raised an eyebrow at her, "This is terribly light for one who has traveled so far."

She smiled at his words and shook her head. "It may feel light, but appearances can be deceiving. I have an entire armor set in there." She spoke with certainty, though with a certain degree of urgency and eagerness to leave.

Gilan mounted blaze as Halt secured her pack to Abelard's saddle and mounted himself. It was then that she closed her eyes and called her feline form, her body morphing quickly into the black and white striped tiger. Throughout the change, Gilan and Halt couldn't help but sit transfixed, watching her body lengthen and shorten and listening to her bones creak and pop and snap. When it was over, she shook her wide head and stretched out her paws in front of her, then pulled herself forward and stretched her back legs, her body popping a last few times.

She glanced at them once she had finished, her large, infinitely cobalt eyes flicking between them. "Again, Gilan, you really must stop staring with your mouth open. One day, a bat will fly in and make its home in there."

A smile touched at the corners of Halt's grim expression as Gilan shut his mouth with a click of his teeth, but it was gone just as quickly, though not before she had seen it. "Shall we go?" he asked, gesturing to the northwest, the direction they needed to travel.

Astrid nodded and so did Gilan, and the two men nudged their horses, setting off at a swift walk. She kept up easily, even as they moved into an easy trot when Redmont was just a smudge on the horizon. Sooner rather than later, they were tugging along at a mile-eating lope, a nice pace that was maintainable for hours.

At first she had enjoyed the push and pull of her muscles and body, but several hours into the day, she began to grow bored with the continuous rolling country side only broken by the occasional farm or copse of trees. She began counting her strides in twenties in all of the different languages and dialects she knew, first in the elven language, Sithri, then in Araluen, the Skandian dialect of Araluen, Galician and its minor dialects, the language of the Temu'jai, Nihon-ja, the desert nomads, and then the language of the people from Picta to the north. Topping it all off, she counted in each of the Hibernian dialects, then went back and started again, working her way through the language reel once more. In total in one reel, she counted eighteen counts of twenty.

She managed to entertain herself that way for quite some time, until they paused for a midday meal when the sun first began to sink down the sky. She took one extra stride, finishing out her count of twenty in Nihon-jan, before slowing quickly to a stop. She padded up to where the two rangers had sat in the tough hearty grass and lay down on her side in the back, though she kept her upper body propped up on her two front shoulders. She flicked her long striped tail behind her as she laid her head straight down on her paws.

Gilan took out one of the stiff bags that they used to water the horses and filled it for her to drink from, then held it before her thick nose.

Sniffing the bag cautiously, she nodded and nose her way to the water and began to lap it up quickly. The pace of the run wasn't any sort of problem, nor was the physical length, as she was only out of breath but not tired. What got to her was the time she had to spend in her own mind while she ran, thinking about anything and everything to keep herself occupied over the monotony of the run.

She pulled her nose from the bag when she could feel her tongue hit the bottom of it and licked the moisture from the fur around her mouth. "Thank you," she said, her breath mostly returned. She set her head down on her paws again and watched the men as they ate a cold bit of dried fruit, smoked and dried meat and some nuts.

Not one of them spoke, just sat content in a comfortable silence for roughly twenty minutes until Halt finally spoke. "We should head out again; we still have several days ahead of us."

After that, the two rangers mounted up and she followed them as they resumed their trek at the same loping canter.


End file.
